


Some days, You Gotta Remind Yourself That Chat Noir IS NOT A REAL CAT

by GenchanKisaragi



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Does petting count as any kind of relationship, Gen, i say no
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-16
Updated: 2015-12-16
Packaged: 2018-05-07 01:07:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5437808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GenchanKisaragi/pseuds/GenchanKisaragi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompted by a friend asking me this:<br/>"Consider the following: Marinette baby-talking Adrian like some people do with their cats"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some days, You Gotta Remind Yourself That Chat Noir IS NOT A REAL CAT

**Author's Note:**

> It just sprung my mind without careful thinking to be honest. And this is my first fanfic on this site, oh my god. I might as well use this account to post writing instead of just obsessively reading it.

The two of them were sitting on the steps of a building on a particularly slow night of patrol. Almost subconsciously, Chat Noir sat lower than Ladybug, and for once Marinette could reach the top of his head.

His hair was a golden halo in the dim lighting and his cat ear attachments seemed to twitch. (She could never quite understand how they worked, if they moved at all. Sometimes they seemed to work just like a cat’s ears and other times they just looked like very cute accessories. She had long decided to just go with it when it came to their miraculous powers though, because thinking about it too much made her head hurt. Magic seemed to be inexplicably nonsensical at its core, which was fine so long as it worked the way she needed it to.)

Still, that blond hair looked oh so soft and gentle. She reached up and patted it gently.

It _was_ soft and she couldn’t help her self. She continued to rub it in slow circles, despite knowing that there was a solid head below that golden mass, and despite knowing that that head was attached to Chat Noir, of all people.

“My Lady?” Adrien began to say but he stopped himself, enjoying the way her hands felt on his head. The gentle petting was pleasant and he couldn’t remember the last time he had felt this kind of physical affection. (And it was Ladybug! Touching him! Affectionately! He would take what he could get.)

Neither of them stopped the other, and as she continued, Chat Noir began to purr. Out loud. A low sound that was unmistakable.

This only encouraged her instead of freaking her out, and she didn’t want him to stop purring. 

“Who’s a dumb little kitty?” She asked very quietly. “You are, Chat Noir. Yes you are. You’re just a big furry underneath all this, arentcha? Yes you are. Woobashew-washewishew.”

It was at that point, when she couldn’t even understand the words that were coming out of her mouth that she stopped, horrified with herself. She withdrew her hand. What had she been thinking? What was wrong with the both of them?

“My lady?” Chat Noir asked, and her face turned a colour almost as bright as her suit.

“Can we - Let’s not. Talk about this. Ever again,” She said, with a voice that was mostly firm.

He turned his head to make eye contact with her and he grinned, that stupid, infuriating smile. “Whatever you wish, my lady,” he said.


End file.
